Coming in From the Cold
by Wispy Willow
Summary: The blustery winter night is finally over! A new dawn has begun and Sam wakes up to find Andy by his side. With each other is there a path out of the biting cold and into the brilliant glow of the sun? Here is my feeble attempt at a Season 5 episode 1 post episode. Mostly an exploration of what is happening in Sam's mind. (I do not own Rookie Blue at all).


Sam forced his eyelids apart. They were unusally heavy and he struggled to keep them open. He could just make out McNally's shadowy silhouette, before they drooped back closed. The next time he opened them, the blurriness quickly dissipated and he deftly focussed on her face.

"Hey," she said, her voice almost broken, and her lips twisting into an impassioned smile.

God she was beautiful. Her smile was so complete and genuine. It extended beyond the crinkles gathered at the corners of her eyes, right into their brilliant, expressive depths.

He sniffed in the strong, surgical smell of the recovery unit. He was weighted down by monitors, drips and more paraphernalia attached to his body. He could barely move. But McNally was_ here_. She was here and that was all that really mattered!

"Hey," he whispered, his voice failing to transmit. He returned her smile and studied her for a moment. God, she was _so_ beautiful.

There had been so much carnage these past twenty four hours. It had been a torturous night in so many ways. Yet she had remained a constant. She was a pristine representation of everything that had been clean, pure and meaningful in his world.

He wondered how much time he had been out of it, and exactly what had transpired while he was lost to the world.

His eyes fluttered from hers and a sudden jolt of worry caught hold of him. "What time is it?" he demanded, trying to quell the disturbing thoughts invading his mind.

"Hmm," she looked down at her watch then back at him "It's almost morning."

"Where is everyone?" He furrowed his brow.

Christ, she was here alone. What did that mean? A crew of officers was surely hovering in the corridors of the hospital. But, if he couldn't see any of them, did that mean… could that mean that Price, or maybe Oliver or someone else from 15 had-

"They're around," she reassured him with her soft, assertive voice. "Everyone is fine."

The relief flooded his mind. His body felt suddenly lighter. He could only credit this feeling of elation to the fact that McNally was really with him.

"It's really good to see _you_," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes locking hers in a gaze, she couldn't break free of.

"You too," she whispered knowingly.

"McNally," he implored. She stood and approached him, as if reading his mind. He cleared his scratchy throat, and almost gagged on the graininess of his dry palate.

His head was groggy, and with the tubes pressed into his nose he couldn't comfortably talk. Still, there was so much he needed to say. All those things he should have said last night, if he could have. There was so much she needed to know. He struggled as usual to find the right kinds of words.

"I don't want to waste any more time." He confessed. "I don't want to be sad anymore."

It wasn't much, but it came from deep within his soul and was heavy with innuendo. All she needed to do was look unreservedly into his eyes. She only needed to detect the inflection in his voice, and she would know exactly what he was saying. Christ he was saying it all!

She looked at him and let out a breath, as if it was an internal release.

"Neither do I." She replied.

Then she smiled at him. It was _the_ McNally smile. The one that made his heart beat just a little quicker. It had bewitched him his first day working with her. Honestly, he was sure she reserved that smile solely for him.

He wanted to lose himself in her eyes all over again. They radiated and glowered with the remnants of weeping. God how much had she cried last night?

He was still tired and drugged, but not nearly enough to forget her anguished face and the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. He could still feel the taut, frantic pressure of her fingers tightly clutching his hand in the ambulance.

She had been pushed to the edge and with a palpable force driving her; she had found a way to connect intuitively with him. It had been a stunningly intimate few moments.

Amidst the panic and between her soft, frightened sobs, she had confessed something blindingly remarkable to him.

Her words echoed in his mind even now. "I love you. I love you. You are my story Sam. _You_."

Those words had thawed the very last frozen crevices his heart. And, they had cut him to the deep too, because just after she uttered them, he knew that tragically, he might have finally run out of time with Andy McNally.

He had tried to tell her how much he loved and needed her. He wanted her to know that without her, his life was bereft and hollow. He needed to tell her that she completed him in ways he never knew were possible. He had tried to lift his heavy tongue to say these words, but it remained frozen in his mouth.

Everything was a bit murky after that, as he had blacked out into a dark haze of nothingness? He wouldn't be crazy if he started to think it had all been a dream. Only now as he looked into her lovely, open-book face streaked with emotion, relief and raw concern, he knew there could be no doubt about anything.

His body felt heavy, exhausted, beaten and battered. He was physically damaged no doubt. Yet he wasn't hurting emotionally for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

Her smile, her presence, the memories of those words, all of it was assuaging that awful puncture to his heart that had not ceased to hemorrhage since _he_ had pushed _her_ away.

He studied her face now. She seemed to be in no hurry to talk either actually. Truthfully, she looked drained and exhausted.

He might have fought a tough and dangerous physical battle in the operating theatre, yet it was obvious Andy had weathered an emotionally traumatic storm of another kind last night. And, when it was done and spent, here she was. She was right at his side. She was right where she belonged.

Christ he wanted to reach out to her and hold onto her, but he lacked the strength. He hadn't held her for well over a year now, and if there was ever a time he needed it more, it was now.

Andy herself still had that furtive worried look in her eyes. It seemed that she feared he might shatter into a thousand pieces before her eyes. Yet he knew intrinsically she was probably the more fragile of both of them right now.

"How long have you been waiting for me to wake up?" He croaked softly.

"About two hours," she whispered in reply.

"They said the surgery went really well. There is no internal damage. You're lucky." She continued. She had lowered herself back to the chair again. Instinctively she reached out to run her fingers over his forearm. It felt so tender and good.

"I _am_ lucky." He reiterated, tweaking his lips into a smile.

A chuckle escaped her. She raised her hand to suppress the yawn that was coming.

"Andy… you should go home and get some sleep."

"I can't. Not yet." she mumbled, leaning forward and rubbing her eyes. Momentarily she continued gently massaging his arm. He could just sense the texture of her soft fingertips.

"I'm okay. But you need to rest-" he persisted, managing to raise his voice above a whisper again.

"It's not that," she replied, looking into his eyes quickly.

"Frank texted me earlier. He said as soon as you were awake and out of dang…" she shifted her eyes away from his, as if she couldn't bear to contemplate what might have happened to Sam.

"He said as soon as you were awake, I needed to go down to give a statement,"

Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Ah," he said softly. Christ, she really hadn't left him tonight. She hadn't even returned to the Barn to help close the case.

"Traci says there's a back breaking inspector breathing down their necks about everything that went down."

Sam nodded in resignation. "You should go then," he whispered.

"I don't want to Sam." she replied with a weak smile. She looked at him. Honestly she couldn't' care less about some tyrannical supervisor right now. All that mattered was that Sam had survived. He had survived and come back to her.

"McNally go to station and give a statement. Then go home and get some sleep. That is an order." He smiled and God, she could see his dimples. He really was going to be alright.

"Pfft! We're not on duty now _Detective_." She giggled. She never called him Detective. Never.

"I'm fine Andy," he mumbled less authoritatively.

"You were shot in the abdomen last night!"She replied, a smile escaping her. "I wouldn't call that fine!"

"Maybe I _am _bullet proof," Sam replied with a gruff kind of chuckling noise.

She giggled as she stood to go. Sam evidently remembered everything from last night, even her taunt about being bullet proof.

Surely then he recalled in vivid detail, everything _else_ she had revealed too. Undoubtedly he had seen the truth in her eyes. After all, it was as though a veil had lifted, and he was able to peer into her soul and glean the true depth, dimension and intensity of her feelings for Sam.

"Sarah's here." She said as she flipped her jacket on. She was trying to sound nonchalant. After all it was perfectly normal that his sister should be there for him. Wasn't it?

"She's outside. I can send her in." Andy planted her hands in her pockets as she looked at him.

There was a new and strange kind of startle in Sam's eyes. He muttered something under his breath. Andy could swear it was the word "Square".

"How did she get here? How did she find out?" Sam spluttered.

"She's family," Andy shrugged as she replied softly. "She wants to see you."

He was silent for a moment longer, before a bewildered smile broke across his face.

"Okay," he agreed softly.

Andy dipped her head close to his and softly brushed her warm lips on his cheek.

"I'll see you later," she whispered, close to his ear. A second later she was moving away, heading for the door.

Her warm touch lingered on his skin. She turned, smiled and then disappeared.

A chill brushed over him. It was as though she took her warmth and vitality away with her. He had felt that chill of her leaving him more times than he wished to remember.

Truthfully he never wanted to experience it again.


End file.
